


Sucking Up To The Boss

by PaulJosephWatsonsLips



Series: Alt-Right Dumbasses but Gay [1]
Category: Republican Shithead RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Boss/Employee Relationship, Bottom Paul, Daddy Issues, Derogatory Language, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Extremely Dubious Consent, First Time Blow Jobs, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Power Imbalance, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-29 16:58:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19404391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaulJosephWatsonsLips/pseuds/PaulJosephWatsonsLips
Summary: PJW has a new job—his first job, really,—and with it a new boss. To say he’s “nervous” is a vast understatement.(NOT A JOKEFIC OR CRACKFIC. THIS IS TREATED SERIOUSLY LIKE REAL FANFICTION.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS FOR: Homophobic slurs, language referring to PJW as a female? (He is not trans in this), unhealthy relationship due to power imbalance, PJW initially relating Alex Jones to his own father, etc.

The first thing Paul Joseph Watson noticed when he walked into the room in which he was to interview was Alex Jones’ Rolex watch and sports jacket.

Paul didn’t come from a rich family, by no means, but his own father had always made an effort to look as if he did. Nice watch, fancy jacket, too familiar and too much what he was trying to escape from.

It left a lump in his throat he couldn’t swallow as Jones beckoned him fowards.

The second thing he noticed was the lack of a second chair in the room. The hairs on the back of his neck were rising but he still forced a smile and jerked his hand out to shake Jones’ mechanically.

”You’re Watson, huh?” Paul nodded, both hands white knuckled and clenching at the papers he was holding.

”If you and I are gonna get along you’re gonna want to answer me better than that, kid.” A heavy hand landed on his shoulder as Jones stood up from his chair.

”Oh- Uh. Yessir. I’m Paul. Er- Watson.” Jones wasn’t paying attention, instead choosing to study Paul’s face carefully, before bringing his other hand up to run his thumb along Paul’s jawline.

”Yeah... yeah, you’ll do,” Jones muttered, seemingly to himself, thumb moving to press down on Paul’s bottom lip.

Paul’s ears were red. Hell, they were ringing. His friends had told him that Jones was untrustworthy or manipulative, but he never thought it would be like this.

_Maybe I’m just overreacting, maybe he won’t-_

The hand on Paul’s shoulder pulled him forwards, and Paul stumbles nearly into Jones lap as the older man sat back into his chair. Then, the hand forced him by his shoulder to his knees.

The hand that had been pressing on his lip pulled away to slap Paul lightly, almost playfully on the cheek before busying itself with Jones’ zipper.

”Anyone ever told you you look like a girl, son?”

Paul’s inside were molten and he felt like he could throw up but somehow he didn’t, somehow he just blushed to his ears and tried not to look directly at Jones.

He made a choked sound at the unexpected hand grabbing the hair at the back of his neck and yanking.

”I said you were gonna need to answer me properly. Do you want this job or not?”

”N-No sir. I mean- Yessir, I do want the job, no that... no one ever told me I look like a girl before.” The words tumbled out of his mouth as Jones finally pulled his dick out of his pants, and Paul didn’t manage to close his eyes before he got a peek of how large it was.

Larger than his own, for sure.

The hand gripping his hair forced his head forwards, and Paul let out a small whine on accident, too much embarrassment and shame and... something else he didn’t want to think about. It stopped Jones for a moment.

”...You some kinda faggot?” Paul’s face was so red it hurt, but if he couldn’t answer already, he definitely couldn’t answer when Jones pressed his dick against the side of his face.

”Seems like it to me. Some kind of fuckin’ queer, bet you’ll enjoy this, kid.”

Paul swore to himself that he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t enjoy it. But when the head of Jones dick pressed against his lips, then pushed in and forced his mouth open, and all he could do was smell it and taste it and couldn’t escape the feeling of it, his own dick jumped up.

He had been a virgin before then, he realized.

Paul tried to open his eyes as Jones used his mouth, moving it back and forth with a hand in his hair so Paul didn’t have to. One small thing he was thankful for.

The thankfulness disappeared when the first thing he saw was that Rolex watch on Jones’ free hand, that sports jacket. His throat closed up and he shut his eyes.

”Fuck... you’ve got a tight throat, son.”

Paul couldn’t help it. He’d only just barely been hard but the embarrassment overwhelmed him and he came in his only pair of dress pants he had to wear to the interview.

At least Jones was close.

But the man pulled out of Paul’s mouth and came all over his face, and Paul felt a deep ache inside himself that sent chills up his spine.

Paul was too focused on the cum dripping off of his long eyelashes and down over his lips to notice Jones taking his phone out and taking more than one picture of him.

Everything after that was a blur. Jones tucking himself back into his pants and getting up, leaving Paul on his knees on the floor. Jones stopped at his desk on his way out to grab a tissue box and toss it next to him.

All he said before he walked out of his office was “you’re hired, kid.”

Paul realized he’d had no idea what he was signing up for.


	2. Chapter 2

Alex Jones’ company was a small operation, albeit growing. Not too many people editing for his website or running his show (he preferred to keep it unedited anyways), but enough.

Enough that it was an open secret among them that Paul Joseph Watson was never more than an arm’s reach away from Jones, enough that people spread rumors about seeing Paul sitting in Jones’ lap, straddling one of his legs, or worse.

Rumors being the operative word. Since he had interviewed, Paul had been mostly left alone, even if it seemed Jones was always just behind him.

At least at home he could be alone. And there he was, checking his email before work. 

There was an email in his inbox from the official InfoWars account, the only email in his inbox.

It was written that, as part of the organization’s dress code, employees at the entry level were not permitted to have facial hair.

It crossed his mind that it could be a prank from one of the editors, but the thought of what might happen if he broke a rule sent a chill down his spine.

Paul hurried into his small bathroom and grabbed his razor, a cheap plastic one that wouldn’t give much use.

As he looked into the mirror and shaved away the last bit of his pride, he could practically see himself with cum dripping off of his eyelashes, and had to look away from the mirror to catch his breath, leaning on the counter.

His heart was racing.

He somehow finished up, and finished getting ready for work, putting on the second nicest outfit he had. Jeans and a t-shirt.

When he came to work clean-shaven, he could feel the eyes on him, burning against his skin.

Jones was nowhere to be seen, so Paul got to his desk as quick as he could and settled down to work. The whispers he could just barely not make out made the tops of his ears burn.

Halfway through the day, Paul was taking his break.

It was all he could do not to blush or hide when a coworker approached him, and said with just a hint of a smirk that Jones wanted to see Watson in his office right away.

The office was dark when he opened the door, and seemed empty, with no one at the desk.

Paul didn’t have time to speak a word before the office door slammed shut and he turned around to see that Jones was behind him, locking it with a key attached to a chain that he replaced back around his neck.

And then there were large hands on his body, maneuvering it, Jones picking him up and literally throwing Paul over his shoulder to carry.

Paul couldn’t do anything but hold still and hold his breath as Jones sat down in his desk chair and bent Paul over his lap, ass up and face down at the floor.

The way his body would react couldn’t be helped, the way he leaned into any touch from Jones and shiver.

”You try’na look more like a girl, kid? You shave just to make me want to bend you in half? Fuckin’ queer?”

Paul’s whole face must have been red, and he was glad he could hide it against the expensive carpet.

Jones’ hands felt him up, grabbing at the meat of his ass and thighs, and Paul could swear Jones was getting hard underneath him.

The hands tugged down Paul’s pants slightly, and started on his underwear before he objected.

”Sir! Is this- Should you be, um, doing this with an employee?”

Jones just chuckled, getting an eyeful of Paul’s bare ass.

”Come to work tomorrow with all this shaved too, princess.” 

Paul felt like he was outside of his body. There was no way this was happening. But it was.

”Now. Gotta punish you for teasing me, _girl_.”

He didn’t have time to ask what Jones meant before one of the large hands came down and spanked him.

His hips involuntary pushed back into it, into each successive hit, and he shut his eyes tight to try and ignore his dick twitching to life.

He got maybe ten hits? Twenty? All he knew is that his ass was sore, and he still had to work for the rest of the day.

Jones pulled Paul’s underwear and pants up and stood him upright before pushing him in the direction of the door.

When Paul walked out, and all eyes were on him, it occurred to him that he had indeed been squeaking and whining with each hit. He wondered if any of them had heard.

Face red, he returned to his desk and sat down with a pained groan.

**Author's Note:**

> If you leave a comment I’ll probably respond to it because (clearly) I have nothing better to do


End file.
